


Paint

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-09
Updated: 2009-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night planning for the Garden Festival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint

She carried a bucket of blue paint over and set it down. Sitting cross-legged in her Trabia Garden sweats, Selphie started to pry the lid off. "Thanks for staying late," she said gratefully.

Zell shook his head, arranging the long sheet of butcher paper on the floor beside her. "Nah, I don't mind. Nothing to do around here anyhow."

Selphie got the lid off, pouring some of the bright blue into the tray. "Well, you're a lot nicer than the rest of this so-called committee. So thanks." The Garden Festival was the day after tomorrow, and they were far from finished. There needed to be banners at the Quad entrance, but nobody else had stayed to pitch in. Then again, the cadets had exams, so they said. Only Zell had stuck around, but Selphie suspected that he had a secret fetish for painting. Otherwise why stay out here with her so late anyway?

"Okay," Zell said, dipping the brush in the paint. "What's this supposed to say?"

"Laugh Your Cares Away."

"Gotcha."

Selphie stood up and started putting away bits of ribbon, puffy paints, and other stuff they'd all had laying around. Being the committee chair was really another way of saying garbage collector. How they'd all made such a mess in such a short time she'd never understand. Zell was diligently painting, and she grabbed a tub full of art supplies and got on the step ladder to put it back on top of the cabinet. But even with the extra boost, she couldn't reach. Irvine had been the one to take it down earlier, but he'd left the meeting halfway through making centerpieces for the tables. Now she was stuck.

"Argh! Why is the world made for tall people?" she complained, trying to push the tub up but she couldn't reach the edge of the cabinet. Still too high.

"Whoa!" she heard behind her. "Be careful!" Zell's voice came, but he was abruptly cut off.

Selphie turned slightly on the step ladder to see Zell desperately trying to get to his feet. She watched in horror as he knocked over the entire bucket of paint as well as the paint tray, spilling blue all over the banner and the tile floor of the art room. And then she was even more shocked to see his sneakers slip in the paint puddle, and he fell hard, landing on his back with a squishy thud. She was off the ladder instantly, dropping the supply tub without another thought.

But she managed to slip on the paint too, falling right on Zell painfully. "Ohhhh this sucks," Selphie moaned, getting paint all over her hands.

"Ow," Zell whined beneath her. "Get off!" Her fall had splattered paint all over him, and she tried to move, but it was still slick. She ended up on her side, cold blue splashing over her sweats. All she could do was laugh. Between the two of them they'd ruined both the posters and the linoleum. This would be coming out of their SeeD paychecks for sure.

She couldn't stop her giggling, seeing paint in Zell's hair and flecks of it on his tattoo. She found herself tracing the shape of it on his face with her finger, turning black to blue. Before she could even stop her laugh, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer and kissed her. The paint squelched beneath them as he pulled himself up to straddle her. Selphie sure hadn't expected him to do this, but it wasn't unwanted.

They stopped when Zell's knees wobbled in the paint and he nearly flattened her. She shoved him away with a laugh. "Why'd ya do that?"

He shrugged, laying back against the tile. He was nearly blue from head to toe. "No reason."

"Liar," she said back, slapping her hand down to splash more blue everywhere. "You stayed late for that very reason."

"Maybe," he admitted, shoving up her sweatshirt sleeve to trace blue fingertips up her forearm. It tickled but felt good otherwise. "But I hadn't counted on the paint."

"Nobody expects the paint!" she cried, rolling over to lay on him this time, placing two bright blue handprints on his t-shirt. They'd get to clean-up time later.


End file.
